


Games

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Futurefic, M/F - Category, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-27
Updated: 2002-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Roles"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Games

## Games

by EscapeToCity

[]()

* * *

Games  
Sequel to "Roles" 

Author: EscapeToCity 

Rating: R 

Warning: Dark subject matter, _Slash_ inferred. Character death referenced. 

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me; they are property of D.C. Comics, Warner Bros., and Millar/Gough. None of the other copywritten networks, magazines, stores, brands, places or people belong to me either. 

*AU/Futurefic/Crossover (slightly...)* 

I apologize for the long wait... 

Best regards, 

-J.B.  
@ N.O.L.A.  
10/26/02 

Comments? E-mail me anytime: EscapeToCity@aol.com 

* * *

**GAMES**

The sun still hadn't risen over the fields. 

She had been waiting all night for it. Light. Natural light, in any form. It had been overcast for days....for nights....hiding all the stars and the comforting moon. 

She couldn't sleep. Too much to think about. 

How could she ever help Clark?  
How could she help him cope with Lex's death? 

Jonathan was too consumed in winter wheat and snow predictions. Martha knew he cared as much as she about their son, yet... 

He will never truly accept what was....what could have been. He's probably content that Lex is dead. Not _happy_ about it, but content. 

"Clark can blaze his own path now, Martha." 

But the problem was....Clark wasn't blazing a path anywhere save Metropolis. He went there every night. Martha knew it. She'd caught him racing back into the barn. 

Last week, four in the morning.  
His tear-stained face telling her everything. 

"I have to find out what happened, Mom. I have to. I owe him." 

"He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself." 

She looked him over. Flannel torn. Mud...or blood? Hair matted, scent rank, eyes darting about furiously....the look of complete desperation. 

"I have to help him." 

She hugged him, then pulled away to hold his face in her hands... 

"Clark...Lex is gone. He's gone! This has to stop. It's dangerous. You look like you've been romping through forests and sewers!" 

"I have. Grand Central Park is where LexCorp. kept its most secret files. Underground." 

Martha's mouth fell agape. 

"Clark-- you've been hanging out in the park! Jesus!" 

"I keep hoping I will find a clue." 

"Clark-- you have extraordinary abilities, baby....but the police now think it was the act of a foreign interest. Lex was very powerful and influential." 

"How convenient, Mom." 

His dark tone shocked her. 

"How so?" 

He turned away from her, looking into the finally risen sun.... 

"I saw her." 

"Who, Clark?" 

"Patricia Luthor." 

"Lex's wife? Son....you're not following her....are you?" 

"No....um....not really. I....just, uh....I just want to make sure she's doing right by his memory." 

"Clark....honey....please....OK....what was Pat Luthor doing?" 

"She was.....L-L-Laughing." 

A tear fell from his eye. 

"Clark....everyone laughs. Why does it upset you that Lex's widow was laughing?" 

"Because Mom....she was laughing and saying 'I won' over and over again. It made me throw up. And I don't think I'd thrown up since the last time I was around the rocks." 

Martha was silent for a moment. 

"Clark...think about it. Pat Luthor is running Lex's businesses now. Maybe she was happy about some deal that went her way. Maybe one of her prized thoroughbreds won some race. Maybe anything, Clark. You can't think she was involved--" 

Clark shrugged...."I don't know what to think, Mom." 

"Please, honey. You've got to find a way to deal with this loss. Going to Metropolis and searching high and low for clues isn't going to bring him back. You must know that." 

"I don't know anything anymore. Nothing. I'm hurting, Mom. I feel like I have been shot with fifty green bullets and my heart has leaked out onto the grass and no one can stop the bleeding." 

"Clark. You're father and I are here for you no matter what, you know that, right?" 

"Sure." 

She had to think of a way to get his mind off Lex. Maybe suggest a trip back to Antarctica. A place he could completely regroup. 

Maybe call Lana and Pete...see if Clark might move-in there with them for a while...I know Pete was looking for help to rebuild their barn... 

Something. Anything. She had to come up with a plan. Right now her mind was on getting her sad and dirty son into the shower. Then some bacon.  
Coffee.  
Then some eggs.  
Waffles. With little sprinkles on them... Then some additional family chatting....this time Jonathan included. 

Winter wheat be damned. 

* * *

"Sawyer!" 

"Turpin....damn.....it's the Luthor driver....Charles something or the other....isn't it?" 

"Yes. Jeez...his head looks smashed in." 

"Call forensics at the Special Crimes Unit pronto. I want to find out exactly how this joe died." 

"What's this?" 

Dan Turpin was looking ever-so-closely at the right index finger of the man. Blood was there. Something else, too. 

"Looks like cloth." 

"Flannel, maybe." 

"Make sure those specialist boys bag that up. Looks like material from a shirt." 

"A struggle?" 

"A possibility." 

"Ya think this has any connection with that tape we got?" 

"Anything goes in this case...it gets more interesting every day." 

"That big guy in the tape....did upstairs identify him yet?" 

"Nope. Probably not from Metropolis. We've got visual records on 99% of the population here now. A drifter maybe...?" 

"A drifter who can enter the most secured residence in Metropolis? Get serious!" 

"I am. How could anyone gain access without tripping the alarms? Think about it." 

"Perhaps he had the code?" 

"Pat Luthor told us only she and her husband had the code to enter the personal quarters. Even the staff weren't allowed in." 

"Pat Luthor was at the WGBS Gala when the intruder broke in. All security systems were armed and functional. Downstairs security at LexCorp Tower say no one entered the penthouse elevators.....OK....something's off here..." 

"Damn right it is! We've got to identify that man! He might just be our killer!" 

"What about Henderson?" 

"What about him?" 

"The Chief seems to be on that foreign terrorist trip like everyone else. Ya think we're barking down a dead end road?" 

"No. And you know I don't think this was any foreign terrorist. Remember the penthouse tape, Turpin. Remember?" 

"Luthor wasn't frightened at all. No hint of surprise in his face. He looked relaxed. Even happy." 

"Exactly. Remember, Dan....Lex Luthor knew his killer." 

* * *

The sun rose over Metropolis just as it had Smallville....fiery and bold, tinged with gold and blue and hints of burnt orange. 

The skyline, always so impressive and dazzling at night, receded behind the lush blue harbour and verdant swaths of greenery. 

Grand Central Park....the fountains with their clear, rose-scented mists. Proud statues glaring down the broad avenues....the rumble of the subway felt ever-so-slightly beneath millions of commuting feet. 

SocietyBank Tower. Eighty-eight floors of stunning blue glass rising opposite LexCorp tower. 

Pat had successfully stopped the city's second largest bank from building their tower any higher. 

Traffic moved. Children played. Cats sang love songs across alleys. The hot dog vendors fought for space among the plazas. 

The City moved along. Just as Lex would have wanted it to. 

His city. 

Her city. 

First of Metropolis Plaza. Pat planned to buy it next year and drive the venerable trust institution into the ground. First of Metropolis owned the much-smaller First of Smallville....who in turn held the note on a certain 370 acres very close to Pat's heart... 

She stood on the balcony, looking out over her kingdom. Her scarlet scarf blowing gently in the sixtieth floor breeze. The world was alive again. The hallways were gone and she'd fired her analyst. 

Her insurance policy sat in a rather open location, atop a Frank Lloyd Wright table, encased in protective material. 

A faint green glow emanating from it... Consuela kept stopping and doing the sign of the cross in front of it. 

Gotta stop hiring illegals. 

"Lex always said to plan ahead."  
....she chuckled....everything had worked out so much better than even she had hoped. 

All Lex's extensive network of scientists and laboratories were at her command now. For her exclusive use. 

"Special project, Dr. Happersen, a very special project." 

She ran her fingers along the railing...admiring her nails. She felt as if she could fly. 

She heard Consuela's voice behind her.... 

"Mistress--someone is here to see you..." 

Who cares....  
What a sight...  
She leaned a little forward.  
Her kingdom spreading open for its Queen... 

"Patricia!" 

A familiar, masculine arm was wrapped about her waist....pulling her back a few feet from the edge. 

Familiar. Strong. Lusty. Older. The beginnings of lines around the eyes. They danced...like fierce rapids... 

Suspicious eyes, though. Then again, they always were. 

("What happened at the party, Patty? Leave it alone!") 

"Bruce!" 

He positioned her in a plush lounge chair, looking her over... 

"I'm not injured, you know."  
Chuckling... 

"That wasn't funny, Patricia. You scared me. Not much scares me." 

Consuela hurried onto the balcony, fear in her eyes... "Mistress...will you be needing anything?" 

"A drink, Bruce?" 

"No thank you, Consuela." 

"That will be all, dear." 

"Yes, mistress." 

"You nearly fell off, Pat." 

"No I didn't. I was just admiring the view." 

"Of the city?" 

"My city, Bruce...my city." 

"It's the people's city, Patricia. All seven million of them. You are just a part of the greater whole." 

"Ha! Is that what billionaire Bruce Wayne tells the minions of Gotham? I don't think so. I don't care to discuss egos and business. I was enjoying my morning. Where's Selina?" 

Bruce looked away...  
"She's on the continent." 

"Oh."  
Smirk.  
"Trouble in paradise?" 

"No...we just don't get to spend as much time together as we would like." 

"I see. You'd better change that, Bruce. You never know when the one you love will be taken away from you." 

"True. She will be home tomorrow. She's fine...you...you...Lex...are you dealing with his passing alright?" 

"Yes. I have to. LexCorp needs a strong leader." 

"I meant...not the company....personally, Patricia....how are you feeling?" 

"Just fine." 

"At the funeral you seemed so distant. Both Selina  & I were worried about how all this was affecting you. I know you probably need some closure. I have been using all the Wayne contacts here in Metropolis to try and find out who might have murdered Lex. Nothing is coming up. I hear the Feds and local police have turned their attention abroad...." 

"Yes. I have heard the same." 

"All this must have you up nights, Pat. I'm so sorry you have to go through this." 

"No pity....and I have been sleeping quite nicely...I have cried long enough, Bruce." 

"Sometimes pain creeps up on you when you least expect it. I still miss Lex everyday. He was a good friend. A sincere friend. It's hard without him in my life." 

"I'm not you, Bruce. I can let go of the past." 

"Oh. I see." 

She glanced into the den to see the green glow becoming even more pronounced. Damn Cadmus. They told me lead was enough to block it. 

"Patricia?" 

Silence. 

"Selina will be here in Metropolis, Pat. Umm...in a week or so. She's going to auction off a star ruby at the Palace of the Arts." 

"Fabulous, Bruce....look...I really have to run....I am so glad you stopped by." 

"Pat-- I think we need to talk more....Wayne Industries still funds research out at Cadmus and I heard you were out there for some meetings last--" 

"Yes, Bruce, I was at Cadmus. It was one of Lex's favorite ventures. But what I was doing there is absolutely none of your concern." 

"I see." 

"I really must be going, Bruce. Please tell Selina to call me when she gets into town. You know the way down." 

(Bruce...not as observant as you used to be...thank goodness for domestic discontent...) 

* * *

"That roast was fantastic, Mrs. Kent." 

"Pete....close your mouth!" 

"Oops!" 

Lana punched her husband playfully on the shoulder. 

"Still a big kid!" 

Martha watched them both closely. They were so happy together. Lana...the little girl lost, the magazine cover orphan....Pete....always smiling and joyful, always loyal...the best friend her son ever could have had. 

Married. Loved. Safe. Dreams she still had for Clark. Clark. 

He sat across from Pete. His eyes focused on the tablecloth. 

His hair was so long these days. She had to get him to laser a little off soon... 

"Son...are you alright?"  
Jonathan reached over and grasped his son's shoulder. 

"Yeah....Dad...I'm fine. Just thinking." 

Jonathan noticed Clark's eyes had dark shadows under them... 

"You're always thinking, Clark...you need to stop thinking and have yourself some fun!" 

"Pete! Clark's probably just still upset over L--" 

Stubble....when did Clark age so much? 

The look in Martha's eyes told Lana to stop right then and there. 

There was a horribly uncomfortable silence. 

"Lex. His name was Lex. It's alright to say it, Lana." 

Lana sat her fork down and looked away. 

Pete looked confused....  
"Clark, man...I mean...I know you two were good buds and all....but he's gone, man. People die, Clark. We all will....I mean....you know?" 

"We all will? Will we?"...Clark's words were barely a whisper... 

Martha looked at Jonathan.   
Jonathan looked at Clark. 

"Outside, son. We need to talk." 

"O.K. I'll be back in a little while guys." 

Lana and Pete just nodded.  
Clark and his father left the room. 

"Mrs. Kent?" 

"Clark just needs some time, Pete. Lana, honey...will you pass me the gravy?" 

"Of course, Mrs. Kent....but....have the police found out who killed him yet? Anything?" 

"No." 

"No wonder Clark is still so upset. He believes that good will prevail." Pete put his arm around his wife..... 

Martha smiled at them both.  
"That's what makes him so wonderful, Lana. Clark still believes." 

* * *

"Charles Warrington. Age 52. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to head. It was a quick one. Severe damage to rear quadrant of brain. Signs of a struggle, although we can't tell just yet if it involved one or more persons. Fabric found under fingernail is dyed red flannel, likely from a man's shirt." 

"You got that, Sawyer." 

"Yeah." 

"Prints?" 

"None." 

"Perp probably wore gloves. No prints on the Luthor scene either." 

"Think they're connected?" 

"Possibly. I mean....Luthor's dead...now his personal driver." 

"What about the tape? Positive I.D.?" 

"Well...what we have is this." 

Maggie Sawyer opened up a folder to find a set of high definition photographs from various sites in Metropolis. 

"This is definitely the guy on the tape." 

"Whoa. Red flannel shirt in every shot. Can't this guy afford some threads?" 

"Any prints from the penthouse?" 

"No....strangely there are none from the day our suspect entered the premises and broke the picture." 

"Hmmm....and witnesses?" 

"He was seen at various locations around the city. McDonald's, Wendy's, Taco Bell, the Grand Central Park pizza booth, Rodier's department store, the Post Office, some flea-bag motel in Hob's Bay...." 

"The dates match?" 

"Most do. None on the day that Luthor was murdered, though." 

"That's alright. We have enough to question him. He was the one in the apartment that day kissing Luthor's photo." 

"Back to the jilted lover angle?" 

"Maybe...maybe something deeper...something older." 

"Why?" 

"Clark Kent, age 25....resident of Smallville, Kansas." 

"Smallville!" 

"Give the dog a bone. Yes....Smallville. Where our dead billionaire lived for several years." 

"Sawyer?" 

"Yeah, Harris?" 

"One more thing. Seems Kent's parents have a contract with SkyLex airlines to supply organic produce for their flights." 

"So Clark Kent's parents were in business with Lex. Why didn't we know this before?" 

"We just got the fax from LexCorp." 

"They sure are running slow these days without the King." 

"They are moving all their corporate files to Midvale. That's what the guy said on the phone. Said it was a huge mess. I bet the shredders are working overtime. Didya know they had all those papers buried under the zoo?" 

"Yeah...they've got caverns out there. Place is damned spooky." 

"No bother...you have enough from these photos, eyewitnesses and the business connection to bring him in." 

"Turpin?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Clark Kent was in Lex Luthor's apartment. Wearing red flannel shirt. Clark Kent was seen all over Metropolis, including Hob's Bay--" 

"Very near to where we fished Charles Warrington out--" 

"--and Clark Kent's parents had some sort of financial arrangement with Lex Luthor--" 

"--you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"Damn straight....we've got to get to Smallville!" 

Maggie Sawyer and Dan Turpin raced out of the office.... 

Ashley Harris, lab technician, returned to her desk. She noticed another page of information on her desk-- 

"How strange..." she said to herself... "Clark Kent has no fingerprints on file....anywhere...how odd." 

* * *

"Son?" 

"Dad?" 

"Anything you need...I'm here." 

"I know." 

"I'm sure the Metropolis Police and the Feds and the SEC and everyone else is trying to find out who killed Lex. All we can do is go on with our lives." 

"You never liked him, Dad." 

"Wrong, Clark. So very wrong. I respected Lex Luthor. He was a complicated man." 

"Very..." 

"And I am aware that your relationship with the man was complicated. Life is like that, Clark. Nothing is ever clear...everything is a cloudy kind of game....with the rules never given out all at once...just one at a time." 

"So life is all struggle and no victory?" 

"Of course not. You're a testament to victory. You told me that your Kryptonian birth parents saw you as their most cherished creation, a symbol of life...and sent you here to Earth to save you from certain death. You yourself are the embodiment of victory. And hope. Never doubt that." 

"Thank you so much, Dad. I love you....but--" 

Clark began to sniffle....  
"I couldn't save him." 

"You saved Lex more times than I care to imagine, kiddo. And Lex saved you and he....he....." 

"He loved me, Dad." 

"Yeah...."  
....adding gruffly....  
"that too." 

"Does that still bother you?" 

"Let's just say that it wasn't part of my plan for you. But it doesn't bother me. This is 2012, you know?" 

"Yeah." 

"And believe me....they will solve Lex's murder. He was too important a man....too many people need to get this resolved." 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Remember what we talked about, Clark. I want you to stay here in Smallville. Unlike your mother, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go back to the Fortress right now. I think you should be here with us and your friends. Pete really does need help with their barn...you should see it! I don't know what he and Lana are thinking! Good kids, for sure, but both of 'em belong in town. I swear, that boy never did know how to handle a hammer!" 

"Or a cow! Remember when he tried to milk old Bessie!" 

Both father and son laugh heartily. 

"Seriously, Clark...you can heal here." 

"O.K." 

"Please try, son. I love you too much to see you hurt." 

"I promise I will, Dad. I will try to make everything better. I don't want to make you upset." 

"You could never upset me, son. You and your mother are my favorite people in the world. You're my hero." 

* * *

"They are going after Kent." 

"Delicious." 

"All the evidence will point to him." 

"Exactly." 

"He will fry for this." 

"As he should." 

"The foreign angle was a nice way to divert attention from your other plans." 

"Yes, if I do say so myself." 

"People are so xenophobic and paranoid these days....it's easy to blame someone in Damascus before someone in Dallas--" 

"--Or Smallville. But they will. They must." 

It was so nice to have connections. To own people. To get anything you wanted whenever, with the drop of an envelope, the chill of a threat... 

Lionel you would be so proud, sweet father-in-law, sweet tormentor... Lex....I have become what I feared most. 

But I have won. 

Pat lay back on her sofa, feeling triumphantly aglow. 

I wonder what color he will turn when fried....green, perhaps? 

* * *

Far away from the glitter and grit, the deceptions and hysteria, the pain and paradise that was Metropolis sat a man.... 

A good man... 

Who still believed in virtue and sincerity. 

Clark Kent sat on his old couch. His eyes fixed on the stars. 

"I can heal." 

He repeated himself just to make sure he could actually say it. 

"I can heal." 

He knew he could.  
He knew he would. 

But Lex had to have justice. 

He had to. 

Clark hadn't given him the one thing he'd needed most. Himself. In person. For seven long years. 

If only... 

But. 

The game Clark played now was resolution. Re-animation. Rebirth. 

Not of a man he loved...said man now rotting in city soil... 

But for the faith that love had given him. 

END of "Games"  
Up next: "Chances" 


End file.
